There's A Bit Of A Stigma
by Red Witch
Summary: News from New York does not amuse Mallory.


**I don't know what happened to the disclaimer saying I don't own any Archer characters. Just more madness waiting for Season 8 to happen.**

 **There's A Bit Of A Stigma **

"AAAAAAAHHHHHGGGHHH!" Mallory could be heard screaming from her office.

"Mother? **Mother!** " Archer ran with the rest of the Figgis Agency to see what was wrong. "Are you hurt? Mother!"

"Either that or she's out of scotch again," Ray remarked.

"Honestly that does seem the more likely scenario," Archer admitted.

Mallory was sitting at her desk looking at a computer with a Tom Collins in her hand. _**"What?"**_ She snapped.

"I heard you scream," Archer said.

"The entire block heard you scream," Pam added.

"Are you okay?" Archer asked.

"Are you in pain?" Cheryl asked excitedly. "Mind numbing horrible pain?"

"Not physically, no," Mallory glared at her.

"Damn!" Cheryl snapped her fingers.

"Well maybe next time?" Pam suggested.

"Are you out of scotch?" Ray asked Mallory.

"No, I just refilled my bar yesterday," Mallory said. "I'm just so damn frustrated! I got an e-mail."

"Bad news?" Archer asked.

"No, it's all good news damn it," Mallory grumbled.

"I don't get it," Lana asked.

"There's a joke about what you **don't get** there but I'm not in the mood," Mallory told her. "The good news isn't mine. It's from one of my so-called friends back in New York."

"Yeah that would do it," Cheryl nodded.

"Great just what I wanted to read today," Mallory grumbled as she put her drink down. "Another perfect e-mail about _perfect_ Pearl Van Mark and her _perfect_ family."

"Now which one is this?" Ray asked. "Is she the one with the cat association? Or the bird association?"

"Technically she was part of both," Mallory remarked. "Until her cat ate a bird. Fortunately, it was just a sparrow but still you wouldn't believe how much a fuss those birders made. It's not like it ate a parrot or something rare!"

"So which one of your old cronies is she?" Pam asked.

"Pearl went to the same debutante ball as I did," Mallory explained. "She's originally an Eagleton, of the Philadelphia Eagletons. They're into paper mills and that sort. We didn't mingle much since her family was from out of town."

"When did her family move to New York?" Lana asked.

"About twenty years before Pearl was born," Mallory explained.

"Seriously?" Lana was stunned. "And they **still** considered Pearl an outsider?"

"Lana in my old social circle there were families that came over when New York was still New Amsterdam," Mallory said.

Lana asked. "So there's a bit of a stigma?"

Mallory shrugged. "Not as big as if you came from New Jersey but you get the point."

"So how did you know her?" Lana asked.

"We went to a lot of the same parties," Mallory waved. "But not that many fundraisers. She was involved in Mothers Against Drunk Driving, The Temperance Club, some abstinence group for teenagers, a soup kitchen sponsored by St. Brigit's Church, a few other religious organizations."

"In other words, you two had absolutely **nothing** in common," Lana remarked.

"Nothing but our mutual loathing of disco," Mallory admitted. "Albeit for different reasons. Me for the music. Her for the tight pants."

"I thought the tight pants was the one redeeming point of disco?" Ray asked.

"That's what I said!" Mallory was surprised.

"Oh come on guys," Pam said. "Disco wasn't that bad. It had its moments."

"I liked disco," Cheryl said. "It was fun! Especially the drugs in the bathroom!"

"Yeah!" Krieger grinned.

"No! Noooope!" Lana barked. "I don't want to hear this argument **again!** Or end up in the hospital. Again."

"Let's focus on this **particular argument** ," Cyril said. "Which is apparently Ms. Archer is angry that her acquaintance is doing well on the family front. That is the point, isn't it?"

"Yes," Mallory nodded.

"I thought people sent these kinds of letters during Christmas?" Archer asked.

"They do but Pearl likes to stand out in the crowd," Mallory groaned.

"Is she the one with the bright pink coats and those god-awful hats?" Archer asked.

"That's Pearl," Mallory grumbled.

"I remember her," Archer said. "Two daughters and neither of them would put out. What a bunch of prudes."

"Sterling," Mallory gave him a look. "As much as I agree with you on the prude label, even I think it was a bit much to try and coax two twenty-year-old girls to go skinny dipping with you in the family's pool!"

"It was a party!" Archer said. "I was trying to get them to lighten up!"

"It was their grandmother's 97th birthday party!" Mallory shouted. "And it was noon!"

"So the grandmother was into it," Archer shrugged. "She was laughing."

"She was trying to catch her breath!" Mallory snapped. "She was so shocked she had a heart attack right there!"

"But that's not what killed her," Archer said. "Apparently, she picked up some kind of bug at the hospital."

"Which she wouldn't have gotten if you hadn't sent her there in the first place!" Mallory shouted.

"Speaking of stigmas…" Cyril remarked.

"Even though we're not exactly close she still sent me a stupid e-mail about her oh so perfect family," Mallory grumbled. "With a few links to some online Face Book pages about certain charities her children are involved in. Where did that old crone learn how to use the Internet? Knowing her she probably signed up by accident while trying to order some pillows."

"On the other hand it does make it easier to snoop on other people's lives," Pam added.

"Her son is a judge in some court somewhere," Mallory took a drink. "One daughter is getting married to some rich so and so. Another already married daughter is having her second or third child. One grandchild just graduated preschool with pictures. It just makes me sick!"

"People living _successful happy lives_ makes **you sick**?" Archer asked. "Yeah I can see that."

"I'm angry because she knows how much I hate it when people rub their children's accomplishments in my face!" Mallory snapped.

"You don't think she might believe that you might be genuinely interested in how well her family is doing?" Lana asked.

"No," Mallory said. "Because I told her, _'I hate it when people rub their children's_ _accomplishments in my face'!"_

"Okay now that makes much more sense," Pam nodded.

"Why do you hate it when someone is genuinely proud of what their child has done?" Ray asked.

"Why do you **think**?" Mallory shouted. "Because I can't exactly brag about **my own son!** That's why!"

"Oh, right," Ray blinked.

"What do you mean by you can't brag about me and my accomplishments?" Archer barked.

" _What_ accomplishments?" Mallory snapped. "The only things you've **actually done** these past few years…Besides several whores…Is not get killed and knocking up Lana!"

"And even **that** one you didn't really do," Pam added. "Technically. Lana did most of the work."

"Exactly!" Mallory snapped.

"Can I help it if all my greatest accomplishments are classified?" Archer snapped.

"Like murdering a scientist with his own invention?" Mallory snapped. "Causing a coup? Being responsible for setting back US relations with not one but **three countries** for years? Maybe decades?"

"Technically one of those countries is a principality so…" Archer shrugged.

"Completely failing at running a drug cartel as well as being a total flop as a pirate king?" Mallory went on.

"I wouldn't say a **total flop** ," Archer corrected. "I brought lacrosse to the South Pacific! To this day they still have a halfway decent league!"

"Really?" Cyril asked. "You're taking credit for a lacrosse league made of **pirates?"**

"Well to be honest I can't take all the credit," Archer admitted. "I mean I am the one who brought the game over but it was the efforts of Coach Bai Chu Cho of the Screaming Serpents who really made the game popular over there. He's kind of like the lacrosse pirate version of Coach Belichick."

"Okay I get why you can't say much about Archer," Lana said. "But what about your granddaughter? AJ is getting high marks in pre-preschool. Okay technically they don't have grades at this level. But she's getting all apples and smiley faces."

"Oh, **there's** a headline," Mallory rolled her eyes. "One of Sterling's bastard offspring does better in school than he ever did."

"HEY!" Archer and Lana shouted.

"You really think I can earn points from my old cronies about my black granddaughter born out of wedlock?" Mallory snapped. "You think I'm racist…?"

"You are," Archer interrupted.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "I'm not! But those old biddies are! My god some of them are still scandalized that Shirley Temple danced in a movie with a black man!"

"Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson," Krieger said. "What? Is that not common knowledge?"

"Look I love Abbiejean," Mallory sighed. "I do! She's wonderful. Certainly, smarter than her father. And very pretty, despite her burgeoning weight problems. Which is apparently now in fashion according to all these damn pictures Pearl sent me."

"AJ does **not** have a weight problem!" Lana snapped.

"Well not compared to Pearl's grandchildren," Mallory remarked. "God how do these porkers not break their cribs?"

"Mother…" Archer warned.

"But let's be honest. In New York High Society there are certain criteria one must meet," Mallory added. "And let's face it. Abbiejean doesn't meet a single one of them."

"You mean rich, white and born in wedlock?" Cheryl added. "Yeah I get that."

"I am **not poor**!" Lana barked. "Technically."

"Girl please," Pam rolled her eyes. "I know people on welfare that have more spending money than you. And me for that matter."

"Yeah but Lana's dad has a lot of money," Archer spoke up. "And a really sweet house."

"So, she's technically an heiress?" Pam asked.

"Only by your standards," Mallory rolled her eyes. "But you see what I mean?"

"What about the Wee Baby Seamus?" Pam spoke us. "Oh wait, it's been what? Four or five years now? He's not a baby anymore huh?"

"You want me to brag about **another bastard** born out of wedlock to an Irish whore?" Mallory snapped. "And that is not a euphemism. An **actual Irish whore**!"

"Technically Trinette was an escort," Archer told her. "Not a whore."

"What's the difference?" Mallory snapped.

"About a hundred grand," Archer told her.

"Ever feel like there are days when you went into the wrong profession?" Pam asked.

"All the time," Ray sighed.

During this time, nobody noticed Cheryl getting a strange look in her eyes. Like she actually had an idea. An evil awful little idea. With a grin on her face she quietly snuck out of the room without anyone noticing.

"So, as you can all see," Mallory went on. "I can't exactly brag about my family's accomplishments. Seeing as there **are none**!"

"What about your **own accomplishments**?" Archer snapped. "I'm sure being married to Ron without him divorcing you is some sort of record."

"You know…?" Mallory gave her son a look.

"Granted it's not as spectacular as having a **thirty something year affair** with the head of the KGB," Archer quipped. "But still for you that should be something. Since the rest of your so-called boyfriends barely lasted a few weeks!"

"Is there a **point** to this?" Mallory asked icily.

"Just saying you keep complaining about my lack of accomplishments but you haven't exactly been setting the world on fire," Archer told her.

"Well there was that one time…" Krieger began.

"Figuratively," Archer interrupted. "Not literally."

"Oh," Krieger said. "Well you're right about that."

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted.

"Name **one thing** you've accomplished within the past few years?" Archer challenged.

"Uh this new thing called **this detective agency**?" Mallory snapped.

"Technically it's **my detective agency** ," Figgis pointed out.

"And who pays most of the bills around here?" Mallory snapped.

" **I do!"** Cyril shouted. "With what little money we either earned or stole!"

"Don't forget the settlement from the cops," Krieger pointed out. "After that whole clown incident."

"Lucky for us they decided to settle quickly," Cyril groaned.

"I still pay a lot of the bills around here," Mallory snapped. "And I set up this agency with my own money!"

"Technically wasn't most of that **Ron's money**?" Ray asked.

"Yeah!" Pam and Archer said at the same time.

"Oh what difference does that make?" Mallory waved.

"Kind of a big one if you think about it," Lana said.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "Besides I've accomplished a lot of other things out here! Like…Uh. Hang on. I had something for this."

"This should be good," Cyril remarked.

"I know, right?" Archer smirked.

Mallory then had something. "I can honestly say I have been to a benefit for the Tinnitus Foundation and met several movie stars."

"And held hostage by several clowns and got shot at by several bean bags," Archer quipped.

"Obviously, I am leaving **that part** out," Mallory snapped. "Meanwhile I am meeting new people…"

"Like the cops who shot us with bean bags?" Archer asked. "Or the cops who arrested us?"

"I've seen been to several LA landmarks," Mallory added.

"And been thrown out of nearly all of them," Cyril added.

"Good one," Archer snorted.

"I have been taking in a lot of the culture," Mallory added.

"Bars don't count as culture!" Ray said.

"They **don't**?" Pam was surprised. "Since when?"

"Ron and I have spent a lot of time relaxing at the beach," Mallory added.

"When did you and Ron go to the beach?" Archer asked. "What days?"

"Well we drove past the beach," Mallory shrugged. "And looked out at the beach at one bar. That counts."

"Not really," Lana said.

"We've also made a lot of donations to local causes," Mallory thought.

"Bail money doesn't count!" Cyril snapped.

"And I have been busy working in my new agency," Mallory said.

"No, you haven't," Ray said.

"And again," Cyril added. " **My agency**!"

"I'm just saying…" Mallory had an idea. "With the right spin, I could write a letter of my own."

"Oh boy…" Lana groaned.

"You mean write a letter full of complete and total lies," Ray gave her a look.

"To be fair she's pretty much done that her entire life," Pam shrugged.

"I don't see why I can't write a letter of my own saying how great my life is?" Mallory realized. "Why can't I? It's not like anyone back home knows anyone here. How the hell would those bitches know what's going on?"

"You do have a point," Pam said. "It's not like anyone is going to tell them how much bad luck you've had since you've got here."

"Pam…" Mallory began.

"And you have had a **lot** of bad luck since you moved out here," Pam added.

"Well I wouldn't call it **all** bad luck…" Mallory began.

"True," Pam nodded. "Some of it is karma."

" **Excuse me?"** Mallory shouted.

"I mean come on!" Pam snorted. "Since you've gotten to LA you've been double crossed, kidnapped, arrested, held hostage, shot at by bean bags and nearly broke your arm, had several drunken episodes, kicked out of several high-class places…"

"Don't forget the land fraud scheme," Krieger added.

"Oh, my god I almost forgot about the land fraud scheme!" Pam laughed. "Carried out by a guy named Flim Flam Freddy!"

"To be fair Mallory that was kind of a huge clue," Lana shrugged.

"Et Tu Truck-a-saurus?" Mallory growled.

"Not to mention you've spent a big ass load of money since you've got here," Pam added. "And your bank account is slowly dwindling away."

"I GET IT PAM!" Mallory shouted. "Now shut up before you **get it!"**

"Mallory, you really think writing some kind of propaganda letter is going to do any good?" Lana asked.

"You really have no idea how high society works do you Lana?" Mallory sighed. "It's all about image and reputation."

"I thought it was all about money and power?" Ray folded his arms.

"That too," Mallory shrugged. "But image and reputation are everything!"

"Don't you think you've already kind of shot your wad on that?" Pam asked. "You know? With the disastrous parties from Hell? Insulting a few of your high society friends?"

"And by few she means **all** of them," Cyril pointed out.

"Trying to sleep with their husbands?" Ray added.

"Your ongoing feud with Trudy Beekman?" Lana added. "That makes the feud between Bettie Davis and Joan Crawford look like a peace rally?"

"Nice FX plug," Pam complimented Lana.

"Look," Mallory sighed. "I admit there have been one or two minor incidents that may have slightly soiled my reputation back home."

"Like that hooker dying in front of that senator and his wife at the dinner table?" Cyril added.

"Or you pulling a gun on a waiter in that fancy restaurant?" Ray asked.

"That screaming match you had with the wife of the son of that guy you dated?" Archer added.

"The screaming matches you've had with the **actual wives** of guys you've dated?" Pam added.

"Those other parties you threw where guests **died**?" Cyril added. "Seriously I think those are the worst."

"He's not wrong," Pam agreed. "Nothing kills a party like a stiff."

"Listen!" Mallory snapped. "Again, I admit there were some minor hiccups…"

"A dead body is in no way a **minor hiccup** ," Cyril grumbled. "It's a major one."

"Nevertheless," Mallory glared at Cyril. "A well worded letter can gloss over all that. I can in a clear and concise way tell the ladies back in New York how well I'm doing in California. Besides, how are they going to know the truth?"

Just then a ding was heard. "Oh, I got another e-mail…" Mallory said as she took a look. "It's a mass email forwarded from…WHAT THE HELL?"

"What now?" Archer groaned. "Mother I keep telling you to not click on the ads. That's how they get you."

"No, you **idiot** ," Mallory snapped. "It's an e-mail from Carol. She's wrote this e-mail to me and…Wait…What did she…? Why is she telling me all…? Oh no…No! NO! NO!"

"I told you," Archer said. "Don't hit any ads!"

"Not **that** you idiot!" Mallory snapped. "Carol wrote some slanderous e-mail and mass sent it to a lot of people! Including God Damn Pearl Van Mark!"

"How slanderous are we talking about?" Archer scoffed. "This is Carol. Who can barely write a sentence. What could she possibly say…?"

"Let me read," Pam looked at the computer, slightly shoving aside an annoyed Mallory. " _To everyone who knows Ms. Archer. If you think she was a crazy old bat back in New York, she has gotten worse since she got to California to run a failing detective agency."_

"This does not bode well," Krieger blinked.

"YOU THINK?" Mallory shouted.

"It gets worse," Pam said. "She writes: _She spends all day drinking and shopping and going through her husband's money when she isn't passed out on drugs and stuff."_

"Technically some of those drugs were tranquilizers so…" Krieger began.

" **Not helping** Krieger!" Mallory shouted.

"Looks like she sent it to everybody in your address book back in New York," Pam blinked. "See I recognize Trudy Beekman's e-mail."

"That ding-a-ling ditz can't remember her **own name** but she can remember all the e-mail addresses of my former social circle?" Mallory shouted. "How did…? Oh wait…"

FLASHBACK!

Back to a certain spy agency several years ago…

"No! No, you **idiot**!" Mallory shouted at Cheryl her desk. "I told you to send this e-mail to my party out using my social circle e-mail list a week ago!"

"I sent it out to your contact list," Cheryl pouted.

"You sent it out to my **black book** list!" Mallory shouted. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for me and several of my ex-boyfriends and contacts to meet in the same place! And half of didn't know I was dating other people!"

"Really?" Cheryl blinked. "I thought it was pretty obvious you slept around."

"Carol so help me…" Mallory growled.

"How am I supposed to know these things?" Cheryl shouted. "You have so many lists and know so many people how should I know who is what?"

"Well there are a lot fewer people in my black book now," Mallory grumbled. "But fortunately for you Princess Pea Brain, I have something for you."

She pulled out some headphones attached to a Walkman. "This is something Krieger cooked up. You listen to this tape on headphones for the next three days straight and it will subliminally program you to memorize my social address book."

"You really think this will work?" Cheryl asked as she put them on.

"Well it works on monkeys," Mallory admitted. "So there's a fifty percent chance it will work on **you**!"

"La, la, la…" Cheryl's eyes glazed as she turned it on. "Ooh catchy song!"

"I wonder if it's possible to hire an **actual monkey** to replace her?" Mallory grumbled as she walked away.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Boy did **that** bite me in the ass," Mallory groaned.

"As well as the Double Indecency incident," Pam pointed. "Look what else she put in the e-mail!"

"Oh my God!" Mallory shouted.

"Yeah I know," Pam nodded. "Your hair looks awful."

"How did she get your arrest picture?" Ray asked.

"Uhhh…" Krieger blinked.

FLASHBACK!

"So, can you do it?" Cheryl asked Krieger in his lab. Krieger was sitting at his computer.

"Can I **do** it?" Krieger scoffed. "I already did it." He punched up a picture.

"Wow is it really that easy to hack into a police computer?" Cheryl asked.

"It's pretty much easy to hack into any computer if you know the right program," Krieger told her.

Mitsuko was to the side reading a graphic novel. "It's even easier if you **spend time** with the right program."

"I told you I've been busy lately!" Krieger snapped. "And it's cheaper to watch movies at home!"

"You mean cheaper to use me to download them," Mitsuko rolled her eyes.

"I swear woman…" Krieger warned. "One day I will make myself a **real girlfriend**!"

"Yah, yah…" Mitsuko waved. "I've heard **that** before…"

"One of these days Mitsuko…" Krieger warned. "Pow! Right in the processors!"

Krieger then turned to Cheryl. "So…" Krieger asked. "Do you want wallet sized pictures or 8 by tens?"

"How much will…?" Cheryl pulled some money out of her purse. "Three hundred dollars get me?"

" **Three hundred dollars**?" Krieger's jaw dropped.

"Oops sorry," Cheryl snorted. "Silly me. I mean five hundred. Two of the bills stuck together. New printed money from the bank. Annoying right?"

"For five hundred dollars, you get the whole freaking package!" Krieger grinned. "Including digital backups!"

"Done," Cheryl gave him the money.

"Oooh! Krieger San!" Mitsuko floated over to him. "Now we go to movies!"

"Screw the movies!" Krieger pumped up his arms with triumph. "We're going to Wrestlers Vs. Robots! Followed by Dapper Cadaver World!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"I have no idea," Krieger said innocently. "Gosh Cheryl just does the strangest things on her own doesn't she?"

"She told everyone I was arrested and sent my arrest picture to…" Mallory's eye twitched. "AAAAAGGGHHH!"

She grabbed her computer and started to smash at it. She then threw it on the floor with a scream.

"You know that's not how you get rid of an e-mail right?" Archer asked.

"I'll **kill** her…" Mallory snarled. "I will find the most painful horrible…No wait. She might actually **like** that. I know…I know how to get rid of her. All I need is some acid, some cement, a chainsaw…"

"You can't kill Cheryl!" Cyril snapped. "Again, her paychecks for protection are the **only** **thing** keeping this agency barely afloat."

"One day that argument will not work anymore," Mallory seethed.

"Maybe she'll lose all her money one day and then you can fire or kill her?" Cyril suggested. "Or do both."

"You really think so?" Mallory said hopefully.

"One can only dream," Cyril shrugged. "Not that I've ever dreamt of it. Killing her that is. Or killing any of you. Nope. Never done that. Because that would be crazy if I thought of killing any of you in an extremely violent or disturbing way. Like say if there was a carbon monoxide leak and all of you passed out or something. But then just before you died I guess there would be some kind of electrical fire started by faulty wiring. Of course, you would all die even though I would call the fire department but the blaze is just too damn big and I'd have to pay for all your funerals. Then again, the funerals can't cost that much because you'd pretty much all be cremated already. So, that's some savings right there. At least thirty percent. Which is a bargain in today's market."

Everyone stood there looking at Cyril in shock. Cyril kept talking. "But I'd still be really sad about it. I'd even keep your ashes with me. On a table or something. Oooh! I know! You know that thing where they take your ashes and you can make diamonds out of them? We could do that. That would be nice. I could make you into a diamond. And put you on a huge ass ring. Like a trophy. That would keep with my always. Forever and ever…Because I'd miss you guys. Right?"

Everyone stared at Cyril for a moment. "Cyril," Archer gulped. "Have you been hanging out with Carol a bit more than usual? Because I gotta say buddy, it kind of sounds like she's rubbing off on you."

"And not in the fun way," Pam admitted.

"I dunno," Krieger shrugged. "Becoming a diamond kind of sounds like fun to me. What? You gotta admit it's a classy way to go!"

Cyril added. "Better than a coffin that just rots in the ground."

"That's just a waste of body parts," Krieger nodded.

"I really thought I would have better friends by now," Pam groaned.

"Me too," Ray admitted.

"Come on Ms. Archer," Krieger said. "You gotta admit being a diamond is better than being a corpse."

"Well I do admit…" Mallory then caught herself. "No! No! I'm not getting involved in this! This is too crazy even for…Then again it might be…No! **Forget** it!"

"I hate to say it Mother," Archer said. "But I don't think any of your so called friends are going to forget this e-mail."

"Well if I couldn't go back to New York before," Mallory groaned. "I certainly can't **now**!"

"It does kind of put that whole Philadelphia stigma in perspective, doesn't it?" Pam asked. Mallory glared at her. "What?"


End file.
